221B Sherlolly
by Sci-fi Christian
Summary: A collection of short drabbles or one-shots. Formerly known as July Sherlolly. Nothing longer than 1000 words in these stories.
1. Pompous Twit

**I got the idea from my withdrawal of Sherlolly and I wanted to pep it up. Not to mention, I've got another Sherlolly story coming up, so...**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

" _He's nothing more than a pompous twit of a fiancé."_

Words which echoed in her mind as she paced in the living room of his flat. How dare he say such words?

True, she should not have been listening to his conversation with Watson, but it was hard to ignore when she was in the closet of the lab, retrieving supplies.

Obviously, he did not realize she had stepped in the closet or he wouldn't have said such words.

After he and Watson had left, when she refused to make her presence known, she debated and debated what to do next.

Now, here she was, in his flat, needing to speak to him.

Crazy at it may seem, she needed to set the records straight.

"Molly?"

She stopped mid-pace and slowly turned to face him. "He's not my fiancé." She responded, dropping her arms to her side.

Sherlock studied her, his eyes focusing on her finger which at the moment was ringless. "Molly…"

"It was fake. All of it, he agreed to help because of what was going on with Moriarty. He did it as a favor. You see he's my cousin's beau and well, she let him help because she's like a sister. It was never intended to carry on as far as it did." She explained, hurriedly. "I…just wanted you to know." She added, bowing her head.

Time froze between them, her eyes downcast on the floor. His focused on her.

With quick strides, he approached her and in a scene from a romantic film, he cupped her face and lifted it to place his lips on hers.

After a moment of heated, passionate snogging, he lifted his head. "Good, one pompous twit in your life is enough."

She laughed and brought his head down again in a gentle kiss, letting him know that he was the only twit for her.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **I'm going to try to upload every day with a short drabble or one-shot for the month of July. Some days you may get more than one because of my schedule, but I hope I won't let you down. If you have requests during the month, let me know! I'll try to write them out!**

 **I've got another Sherlolly story (well two, but one is a couple of long one-shots) that is going up today. I hope you all check it out. As for the moment, it's rated T until further notice. The title is Adventures of Holmes and Hooper. It's a Victorian Age story, which I hope you will all check it out!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	2. Stay Young

**I had this already written before a request was made, so the tomorrow will have the request one!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

" _We'll stay young for the rest of our lives."_

"Is that a promise?"

She turned around and found him watching her with a steady gaze. Slowly, she pulled out the earplugs from her ears and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

He moved slowly towards her. "You said, 'we'll stay young for the rest of our lives'."

She shook her head. "Oh, it's a song. I…I…" She stuttered, moving her hands nervously around, lifting the mp3 in her hand.

He slowly nodded. "I see." He paused, focusing his gaze behind her. Silence surrounded them, before he turned on his heel and left her in the lab, confused and hurt.

She worked until her shift ended, and in her mind, she recalled the event of earlier that day. His reaction to her singing or quoting the song by a husband and wife. It had been a love song, one that seemed to speak to her about growing older together.

She didn't remember coming home. The moment she opened her door, she knew something was different.

Entering the living room, she inhaled the scent of lavender from candles on the table and counters. Turning towards the kitchen, she covered her mouth with her hands as she found a cup on the counter with steam. She approached the counter and lifted the cup.

On the napkin underneath the cup, she read. "Turn around,"

She turned and her eyes caught the beautiful colors of his. "Sherlock?"

He hummed. "Follow me,"

She followed his order with a confused expression on her face. She stopped beside him as he turned in front of the couch and helped her sit down. As she sat down, he followed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked, gently.

She turned her head to look at him with questions. "For what?" She inquired, her mind drawing a blank.

He sighed. "For putting you through what I did," He answered, lowering his head to catch her eyes.

Her head moved up and down, words failing her at the sight of the emotion in his eyes.

"I meant those words, Molly. Even though, they were forced. I meant them." He confessed, though his voice was tight with emotion and she could tell he had struggled to get them out.

She felt the cup being taken from her hands, but she paid it no heed as she searched his eyes. She swallowed as her throat felt parched and full of feeling.

"I don't know what else is there, Molly Hooper, but I want to try. I'm not promising anything, but I want to…" He trailed off at the tears in her eyes.

"We'll work up to it." She whispered, understanding his meaning.

They would work up to the rest of their lives, but for now, it was enough to begin.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **If you have requests, you may send them in! I'll work on them someway!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	3. Bodyguard

**Ah, Day 3!**

 **THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 _Requested Inspired by SammyKatz: "_ I've always thought he was her bodyguard" (Hope you enjoy!)

* * *

"I don't want or need a bodyguard, Sherlock!"

"Well, you got one, so stifle your words and let me protect you!"

His words forced her mouth to stop and hang open. "You…you're going to protect me?" She asked, clutching the door with her hand.

Since the return of Moriarty's people, Molly had been placed on the hit list, a position Sherlock knew was at the very top. It was no secret as to why she was there.

Since the events at Sherrinford, the feelings between the pathologist and the consulting detective were well-known. It didn't take a genius to figure out something had changed between them and the way Sherlock was more attentive than usual made complete sense or at least pieced the puzzle together.

"Who did you think?" He urged, in a low tone.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I…I…I don't know. Lestrade's people I guess."

He rolled his eyes. "They couldn't protect you, not satisfactory."

She tilted her head. "And you think you are going to do any better?"

He smirked. "Yes," He stated, firmly.

She searched his heterochromia eyes. "Shouldn't you be protecting John and Rose? Mrs. Hudson?" She asked, absently.

He slowly shook his head. "Lestrade has people watching them. Besides, John has Rose cared for. Mrs. Hudson…well, you know as well as I do that she can take care of herself, besides Mycroft has also decided to pitch in."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

He stepped closer. "For you, I trust no one to keep you safe."

She breathed out. Her mind was fighting what she had heard. What was he saying? She knew the three words spoken were meaningful, but they never spoke of them again. It was an understanding between them. They weren't ready. Not really.

"Except you." She finally whispered as he continued to close the distance.

"Yes,"

"Don't I have a say?" She asked, trying to maintain her independence, but who was she kidding? The idea of Sherlock protecting her sent shivers down her body. It was a delicious thought. A thought she wanted to explore.

"Well, you could continue to argue with me, but I think for the moment, you might as well give in, for there is no way I'm going to let you stay alone while you are on a hit list."

"And whose fault is it?" She asked, with another attempt.

He rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to help me, Molly."

She deflated. "No, I didn't."

He smiled, recognizing her defeat. "Well, then, that's settled. Now, do let me in, Molly, I require a cup of tea."

She scoffed. "Here is what I think of your idea," She began, stepping back from the door, and before he could make it through, she slammed the door in his face.

(She let him in an hour later. Of course, he could have broken in, but where would was the fun in seeing her give in?)

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **Although there has not been a big response, I'm going to continue on! It's a personal project, so I hope to continue. If you have a request, let me know!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	4. World Cup

**Thank you all for your continued support! It means so much!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

"It's unreal. Absolutely unreal!"

Sherlock lifted his brows to find his favorite pathologist fuming as she entered the lab. Believing it was nothing of importance, he shrugged and returned to the microscope.

"Aren't you even going to ask?!"

He sighed and lifted his head, his face sighting his lack of interest.

She groaned and threw her hands up in the air. "It was unbelievable! Utterly unbelievable!"

"Molly, would you please just tell me what it is that has you in such a state?" He asked in an irritated tone.

She placed both hands on the counter and glared at him. "The World Cup…" She stated, leaving the rest for him to deduce.

His eyes narrowed, slightly as he tried to figure out what she meant.

She inhaled deeply before letting out her breath in a rough sigh. "England won."

He hummed. "I see."

She rolled her eyes. "It was a historic game, Sherlock. Through penalties and edge of the seat moments, they won!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining bright, so bright that his breath caught in his throat. "They are set to play Sweden this Saturday in the Quarterfinals."

He studied her and slowly nodded. "And this merits you acting out?" He asked, getting somewhat bored.

She smiled, finally. "Yes, because it's exciting." She paused, and slowly moved around the counter. Her face showcased her shyness. "Mike is giving me the day off, and I was wondering if you would like to watch it with me."

He turned his head and studied her. There were a million answers he could have went with. A million and one answers, and yet the light in her eyes made him bite his tongue. "Your flat or mine?"

She smiled, brightly, and bowed her head. "Well, we could watch it at mine, if that is alright with you?"

He bowed his head. "Certainly, I'll be there."

"Thank you."

He watched her leave the lab with a skip in her step and he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _I haven't been watching the World Cup, but I got on Tumblr and it was all over it, so I decided to write a little something to merit it. (I hope I got the details right, as I don't watch it much and I'm American, please don't hold that against me. LOL)_

 _If you have any requests, let me know._

 _Until Next Time..._


	5. One Boy, One Girl

**I have received a few requests, but this one came into my head after the song came on the radio.**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH! :)**

 **Please review at the end! :)**

* * *

" _One Boy, One Girl_ _two hearts beating wildly."_

The first time he saw her was a day he would never forget. She was hovering over a dead body, beginning an examination.

Her precision with a scalpel captivated his attention, and then she lifted her eyes.

Their eyes met and he felt his heart still in his chest and his breathing stopped in his throat. He couldn't believe it was happening.

After that day, he returned to the lab, covering up his feelings with errands or excuses for experiments. He understood her, learned about her.

She was a fascinating woman.

A woman he was falling madly for.

He went to her when he needed assistance to cover his death.

He hid his disappointment when he discovered she was engaged, and then his joy when the engagement was called off.

Then came the eventful call.

The truth came out through a struggle to save her life.

Now, here he stood in front of her door, waiting for her to open the door.

The door slowly opened and he held his breath.

She lowered her eyes and with gradual precision, the door opened wider, allowing him to enter.

The silence between them left them feeling uncomfortable.

"Tea?" She asked, her voice shaking.

He nodded. "Please,"

He followed her into her kitchen. He watched as she placed the kettle on the stove, with her hands shaking.

Her head lifted, but her back remained facing him. "Did you mean it?"

The question broke the silence and held so much emotion. He inhaled deeply and wanted to move but found himself frozen.

She slowly turned around, having gathered her strength. Her eyes caught his and he saw the tears in her eyes. "Was it a joke, Sherlock? Was it some kind of experiment?"

He swallowed. His eyes searched hers, and he hoped his answer reflected in his eyes.

"Please, tell me."

He felt time stand still as he finally moved towards her. "Say it like you mean it, isn't that what you said?" He asked, lowly, his baritone voice steady, yet full of emotion.

She felt the tears burn her eyes. "Yes, but did you?"

His right hand lifted to caress her cheek, and he let a smile touch his face. "I did."

The tears leaked down her cheeks, and she inhaled sharply. "No experiment?"

"No," He answered, being truthful for the first time in a while about his feelings.

The light in her eyes was unmistakable, and she bit her bottom lip. "Truthfully,"

He chuckled, before nodding. "Truthfully,"

She let out a breathy laugh and held his eyes. "Good,"

"Good," He repeated, bending his head and showed her the truth of his feelings.

As their lips parted, she wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms encircled her waist. "Just so you know," She began, with a tearful laugh. "It was love at first sight."

He laughed and pulled back. "It was." He confessed, surprising her. "I'm good at hiding feelings, Molly Hooper, but no more, not with you."

She smiled, joyously, and sighed into his mouth as he showed her once more the honesty in his words.

" _One Boy, One Girl…to put it mildly it was love at first sight."_

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _Please continue to send in requests, they fill my joy, and tomorrow will have one of the requests._

 _The song in this story is "One Boy One Girl" by Country music singer Collin Raye. It's a beautiful song that merits at least one listen._

 _Until Next Time..._


	6. The Way You Look Tonight

_THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!_

 _Please remember to review at the end! :)_

* * *

 _Ladybugz7 wrote: How about a short one on the song "The Way You Look Tonight…"_

* * *

The piano played softly in the bar, sending chills through her body. Her heart sped up as she recognized the song as one of her parents' songs. The song was full of memory and full of so much love for her.

She recalled the last time she heard it.

John and Mary's wedding…

She sighed and slowly slid off the barstool. The song wasn't one for John and Mary, but it was afterward she recalled how Mary smiled at her and motioned to him.

It was the song that made her realize the truth.

He did care. He cared more than he would ever say.

The slow walk home had her mind wandering over the course of the past few days.

The break up from Tom.

The fear for Sherlock after he was shot.

The agony of knowing he would soon be expelled from the country.

It was hard to imagine life without him.

She lifted her phone when she felt it vibrate and smiled. He needed to see her. Perhaps to say goodbye, at least she would see him.

Calling a cab, she directed the driver to his address and slowly walked up the stairs.

She froze when she heard music coming from his flat, and her heart skipped a beat.

The door was open and she entered. Her mouth opened as she took in the candles, the dim lighting, and the absence of the furniture, but her eyes widened as she caught sight of him. "Sherlock…"

His eyes twinkled at her expression. He was wearing black pants and the dark purple shirt with the buttons tight across his chest. He looked devasting.

So was she, her knee length black dress flowed out at the hips and her long hair was straightened and rested past her shoulders. She was beautiful.

He held out his hand and smiled. "Dance with me, Molly Hooper."

Her feet obeyed his quiet command, and her hand landed in his. He pulled her close and the song began anew.

Her breath caught in her throat as he carefully moved her around the empty room. She smiled with her feet moving in rhythm of Sinatra's song of old. _You're lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you, and the way you look tonight._

She heard the words, but not from Sinatra…from him.

Her eyes lifted to his as the dance continued. He twirled her out and twirled her back into his arms. The words drifted through her head, but for once she didn't listen to them.

He led her around the room. Adding a quick step then another quick step with a slide to the right. She laughed as she felt her body go lighter than air. _And the laugh that wrinkles your nose._

He smiled at the animation on her face, and then as they turned in three points, the song slowed to a quiet beat. A slow quick step and he lowered her into a deep dip before slowly bringing her back up.

She realized they were out of breath as she searched his eyes, and she realized after moments had passed what this was.

It was a goodbye.

"It's not goodbye, Molly. It's a promise." He whispered, reading her thoughts as he always seemed to do.

"What promise?" She asked, catching her breath.

He pulled her closer and touched her cheek with his lips. In his deep baritone voice, he told her. "A promise that I'll return, and please, for everything that is holy, don't change." He answered, pulling back at the last words.

"Change?" She asked, feeling her body shake as his voice sent shivers through her spine.

He smiled, faintly. "Your breathless charm. You're lovely." He paused, wanting to say more, but he couldn't.

She understood and touched his cheek. No other words were spoken as Sherlock pressed play once again and together they laughed as they danced until morning when he had to leave.

 _Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you. Just the way you look tonight._

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _When I got this request, I saw this in my head. It may not be what you hoped for, and I hope I didn't get too cheesy, as I'm not a fan of cheesy, but I am a romantic at heart_!

 _There were two songs requested. This was one, and the other struck my creativity as well, so I'm going to do it too! If anyone has a request! Let me know!_

 _I would have had this up earlier, but I overslept. (I had a day off, and sleep beckoned...lol)_

 _Until Next Time..._


	7. Sign

_Instead of a request, this came to mind as I was going over my lessons._

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!_

 _Please remember to review at the end! :)_

* * *

 _Description: Sherlocks learns sign language to communicate with the now deaf Molly Hooper._

* * *

He learned for her.

It took time, but then he learned origami in just a few hours from watching YouTube.

This was no different.

As he passed through the doors of the hospital, he paused, trying to gather his strength. He remembered the threat of Eurus and what happened as a result.

He wished to God he had gotten there in time, but to be honest he had thought the threat against her was over.

Little did he know.

He stopped in front of her door and waited. She was sitting in the bed. The IV is gone. Her hair fallen down her shoulders. She looked lost and unsure.

She turned her head and smiled when she saw him. How could she smile so brightly when he was the reason she was in here?

He bowed his head a fraction before he entered the room.

He watched as she motioned with her hands and for a moment he realized she was speaking.

He smiled, sadly, and returned the signals.

She sighed and bowed her head. The remnants of the blast could be seen on her skin on her neck, where her vocals had been damaged. Her ears were bandaged, as her eardrums had been busted.

It was his fault. She was now deaf because of him.

She moaned, letting him know she saw him. He lifted his eyes to hers and watched her sign with a precision that caught his chest.

"I'm alright, Sherlock." She signed, swiftly.

He studied her. He couldn't find the words, and slowly stepped closer to the bed.

Molly watched him and frowned. He blamed himself. She understood, but John had explained it to her when he came to visit earlier. Or he had tried. It was hard for him as he had to write it down. Molly had proven to be adept at sign language as she studied it when she was in med school. Who knew it would prove useful in such a trying time as this?

She knew the doctors had done what they could, and that she could possibly regain her voice and even her hearing if she maintained her medicine or even they could graft the skin for her eardrum or something, but for now, she needed to heal.

"I don't blame you." She signed to him, knowing he understood.

Sherlock closed his eyes. "You should." He whispered, regretfully.

Molly moaned and lifted an object to throw at him. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She huffed and slapped his arm, for he was too tall to reach on the face. She lifted her hands and motioned, hurriedly. "This was the work of someone else, not you." She argued with her hands.

"Molly…"

She lifted her finger in a threatening way and he closed his mouth. "You didn't know."

He shook his head. "No, but I should have." He returned in sign.

She rolled her eyes. "No one can know everything. That's what makes us human." She argued, forcefully.

He moved to sit on the bed. "I never wanted you to get hurt. Even when Eurus threatened you…" He paused, realizing that she could read lips.

She leaned forward and searched his eyes. Touching his face, she told him what he needed. She forgave him. She understood.

"I'm sorry."

She smiled and leaned back. "How did you learn to sign?" She asked, changing the subject.

He lowered his eyes. "Internet," He signed, carefully. "I couldn't keep from speaking to you, no matter the circumstance."

Tears burned her eyes and she smiled. She covered her mouth as she realized what it meant.

He smiled and leaned towards her. "I told you, Molly Hooper. You are the one who matters most." He spoke with his voice and hands.

She smiled through her tears and leaned forward, allowing him to gather her in his arms.

It would take two months before her voice returned and only a month before surgery corrected her hearing to where she could hear a fraction more than before, though a hearing aid was needed, it didn't matter.

Sherlock understood her and was always there to translate, even after her voice returned. The ones responsible were not Eurus' people but remnants of the past who were paying Molly back for her assistance in Sherlock's "death."

As Molly entered the flat, a week after the arrest and regained her voice, she smiled as he turned to face her.

He lifted his hands and signed three words that still confounded her to the day. Lifting her hands, she returned the sign before becoming engulfed in his arms.

 _I love you._

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _I am learning sign language because of some family members who are deaf and because I find it fascinating. While learning this week, this story came into my head. I know, it's not great, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Besides, I feel he would learn for her if such a case came up. (Also, I'm a Steve and Kayla fan from Days, blame my mother! I watch their videos on YouTube to pass time sometimes, as the new soaps are rubbish to me...anywho...)_

 _If you have requests, don't hesitate to send them. The next few stories may be shorter because I have a project due for my Masters and it may take a little longer than I anticipate!_

 _Until Next Time..._


	8. England Won

_Mildly disappointed that no reviews were sent in from the last chapter, but I figured it was because of the weekend and two, fanfic was being temperamental on not updating the chapter to the right day. Oh well..._

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!_

 _Please remember to review at the end! :)_

* * *

 _Description: A continuation from Day 4. The World Cup._

* * *

 _She smiled, brightly, and bowed her head. "Well, we could watch it at mine, if that is alright with you?"_

 _He bowed his head. "Certainly, I'll be there."_

" _Thank you."_

 _He watched her leave the lab with a skip in her step and he couldn't help but smile._

He arrived at her flat a few hours before the game began.

He suspected it would be a long day, so he quietly set his phone to silent. The door opened and he smiled as she stood on the other side wearing England's colors and her hair pulled up in the natural ponytail.

"You're early," Molly remarked, stepping aside to allow him to enter.

He hummed and stood on the other side, taking off his coat and scarf. "I thought you might need help setting up for the game." He returned, thought that was not completely true. He wanted to come early to be with her.

Molly smiled. "There's not much to set up. I've got some chips and dip. I've got some beer and if we fancy some desert, I've got some ginger snaps."

He jerked his head at her at the last item and smiled. "You remember?"

She shrugged. "It's hard to forget." She answered, blushing slightly.

He smirked and nodded. "Well, then, what shall we do?" He asked, waiting for her suggestion.

It had been a surprise to her when he had agreed to come to watch the game with her, so she had made sure that she had his favorite cookie on hand.

A fact she remembered from his stay after his "death."

As they settled on the couch, they began a casual conversation, with Molly mentioning her bid on who would win…England of course, and Sherlock mentioning he was never one for sports.

"I've been a fan ever since my dad watched it with me when he was sick," Molly revealed, smiling, softly. "It was our time." She continued, picking at her nails. "We would watch Wimbledon and the World Cup. It was a way for us to deal with his illness."

Sherlock watched her and smiled. "Of course,"

She lifted her eyes to catch him and found, not consternation, but kindness and sympathy. "The game starts in thirty, I better get the chips." She remarked, tearing her eyes away from his.

He nodded and watched her stand to leave to gather the food. He sighed and reached for the remote, resting on the table, and turned on the telly. He heard her move around in the kitchen and tried to overlook the urge to go to her.

She returned just ten minutes before the game began and settled beside him with her knees tucked under her person.

As the game began, she smiled, her face lighting up at the prospect of an amazing game between England and Sweden.

While she watched, Sherlock watched her, fascinated at the transformation of her person with each minute of the game.

He vaguely heard the announcers as hours passed by, all the while being drawn to the small woman beside him, jumping at each move that favored her team, screaming when the officials called a foul or what have you.

By the end of the game, he had seen a different side to the pathologist, a side he wanted to see more of.

As the time rounded the clock, he watched as she bit her nails and screamed as England won the game 2-0.

She jumped up and clapped her hands, turning to find him smiling at her. In her excitement, she threw caution to the wind, and leaped into his arms and planted a kiss on him that caused him to freeze in his position.

For a moment, he could not believe it, but after a split second, he wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss.

The passion turned tender, as she finally lifted her head.

"I'm…"

"If you say sorry, I'll push you on the floor, Molly Hooper." He stated, his eyes dilated and focused on her.

She bit her bottom lip, before she let out a laugh. "England won."

He nodded. "Yes, and so did I." He remarked, pulling her head back down to capture her lips with his.

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _If you have requests, you can send them in!_

 _I'm a little late with this one, because I had a presentation due this weekend for my Master's class, and that took every ounce of my sanity! LOL!_

 _Until Next Time..._


	9. Overcome Fear

_I know! Two in one day, but as I've said, I got behind!_

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!_

 _Please remember to review at the end! :)_

* * *

 _Description: Sherlock helps Molly overcome her fear._

* * *

"They are not that scary."

"Are you kidding?! One move and they can throw you off, stomp on you, bite you, and kill you!"

He rolled his eyes and moved towards the animal in the paddock. "They are gentle creatures with minds of their own, not mindless murders." He explained, reaching out to pet the stallion.

Molly folded her arms across her chest. Ever since she was a young girl, she had a fear of horses. Leave it to Sherlock to discover her fear and push her to overcome that fear.

It wasn't her fault the horse she rode as a child reared up and threw her off, nearly falling on top of her. She had been damaged by that incident, never going near horses again.

Of course, Sherlock learned of the incident and now here she was…in a stable full of them.

He turned and held out his hand to her. "Come here."

She shook her head. "No thanks, I'll stay back here, where it's safe."

He rolled his eyes once more and stepped towards her. "Molly,"

She struggled against him, but it was pointless. He was taller, bigger, and stubborn. She squealed as he pushed her in front of the paddock he had been standing a few seconds before.

"He won't bite."

She scoffed and felt her hand raise to touch the horse's face. She tried to pull it back, but Sherlock held it firmly in his grasp. "Sherlock…"

He hummed, placing her hand on the horse's face, running it smoothly over the fur.

She caressed the face and watched as the stallion seemed to relax under her touch.

"You see, gentle."

She tilted her head back to look into his eyes and hummed. Her eyes searched his and she smiled.

The horse's neigh snapped her out of her daze and she jumped.

"It's alright. He's just hungry."

"How do you know?" She asked, watching the horse carefully.

Sherlock smiled. "Because I raised him, and that's his way of letting me know."

She jerked her head to look at him with a shocked expression on her face. "You raised him?"

He nodded. "Of course, it was an experiment at first, but then I found that I was rather taken with him and he with me." He paused, brushing the horse's mane from his forehead. "His name is Strange if you must know."

She tilted her head to the side. "Strange? You named a horse, Strange?"

He shrugged and motioned to the black animal with silver/white marking on his mane. "He looked strange when he was a colt, and he answered when I called him."

She smiled. "Of course, he did."

He dipped his head. "Horses are a part of my life, Molly, as you are. I've never told anyone."

She inhaled deeply, and studied him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "Sherlock…"

"I've found a kinship with them and with you, for what it's worth."

Molly remained quiet, as she tried to keep her senses about her. She knew what he was saying and it moved her. "Well, then," She began, moving back to Strange. "I suppose I should overcome my fear, then."

Sherlock looked as if the world had been lifted, and he bowed his head.

She patted Strange's head and glanced over her shoulder. "Don't you think?"

He smirked and moved next to her. "If you're sure,"

She smiled. "Definitely,"

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _If you have requests, send them my way! I love getting new ideas! :)_

 _Until Next Time..._


	10. An Interesting Dream

_I got a little behind, because this week has been an emotional upheaval for me. I apologize. Good news is, I'm back on track, so expect a few chapters uploaded today._

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!_

 _Please remember to review at the end! :)_

* * *

 _Description: Molly had a very interesting dream (only hinted) This is a T story after all. :)_

* * *

It had been an interesting dream.

A very interesting dream.

One that made her jump at the mere mention of his name. Or even the motion of the door opening to her lab.

She closed her eyes when he finally entered, approaching her with an ease that made her mouth water. It was wrong. So wrong.

She shakily handed him the specimens he requested and turned before more of her embarrassment came to light.

"Are you alright, Molly?" He asked, watching her, seeing the nervous tick she had acquired in an attempt to conceal information from him.

She hummed and nodded, refusing to speak for fear of her voice giving the charade away.

He studied her, noting the faint lines under her eyes and the way her shoulders sagged. "Have you been sleeping?" He asked, placing the specimens on the counter and approached her.

She wanted to lie. Truly, she did, but he would see through it in a second. "Not really,"

"Have you been drinking caffeine before bed?" He asked though he knew it wasn't the case.

She shook her head. "No, I've been having…dreams." She answered, bowing her head, turning from him to work on some paperwork.

"What kind of dreams?" He asked, curiously.

She held her breath. Oh, she couldn't tell him that. She couldn't. "Personal dreams, Sherlock." She answered, roughly.

"They can't be that bad."

She scoffed. "Bad is hardly the word I would use." She muttered, refusing to look at him.

He stepped closer and noticed how tense she became the closer he got. He watched as her eyes dilated and she leaned away from him. He finally smiled to himself as he realized what her reaction entailed.

"Tell me, Molly Hooper, how long have you dreamed about me?"

She jerked her head to look at him, and she opened her mouth. "I…"

"Don't deny it, Molly, you know you can't hide it from me. The way your eyes dilate when I come closer. Your posture, and nervous language. How long?" He asked, lowering his voice at the last word.

She closed her eyes and felt a shiver run through her body. "I…" She began, letting her eyes open and found him looking at her.

"Since Sherrinford…" He whispered, reading between the lines. He realized at that moment how much he had overlooked after that fateful phone call. "Molly…"

She shook her head. "It's nothing, Sherlock. Really," She remarked, turning from him.

He smiled, realizing how much had been said and yet unsaid. "It's something, Molly." He whispered, his baritone voice sending another wave of shivers through her body. He closed the distance and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "Is this what you dream?" He whispered, his voice becoming gravelly, like the dragon she remembered on a movie a few years ago.

She swallowed and he turned her to face him. "Sherlock…" She choked, barely lifting her eyes to find his had dilated.

"Is it?"

She shook her head. "Not quite…"

He smirked, devilishly, and closed the distance with a hot searing kiss that left her shaking and falling into his arms.

As he pulled back, he smiled once more. "Come home, Molly Hooper. Come home with me…"

Those were the last coherent words either spoke for the rest of the night.

Actually for the next few days…

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _I'm working on the requests, but keep sending them in! They help!_

 _Until Next Time..._


	11. In the Arms of a Friend

_Short, but sweet, enjoy!_

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT!_

 _Please remember to review, if you can!_

* * *

 _Description: The reason behind Molly's sanguine attitude before the call. WARNING: very depressing. If you want to skip, feel free!_

* * *

He had to see her.

Something about the phone call had him thinking something was wrong.

He waited outside her flat, waiting for her to return home.

He straightened when he saw her approach.

She stopped and lifted her eyes to his. "Sherlock…"

His name drifted from her lips like a glass song. It could break at any moment.

He bowed his head in acknowledgment.

She let out a cry and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him.

He was stunned and slowly wrapped his arms around her.

"John called and told me." She whispered, and it dawned on him what she meant. "You saved me."

"I save us both, Molly." He whispered, brokenly.

He brushed his hand over his face. The silence dragged on between them, as he followed her into her flat.

She seemed to know why he came. He heard it in her voice. "I did an autopsy on a ten-year-old who committed suicide." Telling him what had transpired that day. "I had to tell his mother the truth, and I watched as it broke her down. He was all she had." She revealed, her face falling into sadness.

He moved towards her and pulled her into his arms. Nothing needed to be said as he let her cry, and slowly lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom to lay her down while he joined her.

He held her all night, letting her know that he was there and he wasn't leaving.

The following morning, she lifted her face to find him gazing at her. She lifted her right hand to his face and smiled. "Thank you,"

He smiled and leaned into her hand. "You're welcome, Molly Hooper."

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _I wrote this because it hit me how young some children are when they decide to give into bullies. There are so many bullies out there, young and old, and, for me, they need to be stopped, but there is always evil out there. It doesn't matter who you are, what you are. You are beautiful and loved. I hope you never forget that._

 _Sorry for the sanguine attitude this one brought. For some reason, I felt it needed to be told._

 _Until Next Time..._


	12. Good News

_A happier one than the previous chapter! Enjoy!_

 _THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!_

 _Please remember to review, if you can!_

* * *

 _Description: Molly has something to share!_

* * *

"Get out of here! NOW!"

John staggered back and ran into his friend as he left the lab. "Sherlock, I wouldn't go in there if I were you." He responded, shaking his head.

Sherlock looked at his friend and his face held disbelief as he scoffed and moved into the lab. "Nonsense, Watson,"

John shook his head. "You're funeral."

Sherlock entered the lab and found Molly standing at her table in front of the microscope. "Molly…"

She lifted her eyes and seemed to relax when she saw him. "About time you came."

His lifted his brow and studied her. "Was I supposed to?"

She scoffed and moved around the table. "I called your cell and told you to be here."

"Molly, you didn't call my cell."

She stopped and her face melted into disbelief. "I know I did. I called and it went to voicemail…" She trailed off and groaned. "Oh, dear, I called John, didn't I?"

He smirked. "Yes, which is why he's standing outside." He answered, stepping towards her. "What is it?"

She sighed and let out a laugh. "Well first, I owe John an apology." She began, though the tears in her eyes told him what he needed to see.

He placed his hands on her upper arms and gazed into her eyes. "And second?"

She smiled and let out a laugh. "Second, I need another opinion, but…" She backed up and pointed to the microscope. "I went old school, but the results are the same."

He examined the microscope and lifted his eyes to hers when he realized what he was looking at. "Are you sure?"

"You're supposed to be a detective, Sherlock Holmes. You tell me." She exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest.

His eyes focused on her midsection and he lifted his eyes to hers. "Oh, Molly,"

She laughed as he scooped her up in his arms. "Happy?"

He pulled back and smiled. "Happy, doesn't begin to cover it." He responded, and then kissed her with all of the happiness of an expected father. "Oh, by the way, you don't have to apologize to Watson." He remarked, against her lips.

"Why not?" She asked, with a laugh.

"Because he heard every word."

She laughed, loudly, before she was silenced by the man holding her in his arms. The man who would become the father of the child she carried, and the man who would become her husband.

* * *

 _Please be kind!_

 _I hope this one was happier for you all!_

 _If you have requests, don't hesitate to send them in!_

 _Until Next Time..._


	13. Fangirl Weekend

**I know, I've been away, but I couldn't help it. My personal life has been hectic lately, with barely enough time to write.**

 **There are no spoilers in this! (Avengers: Endgame and Game of Thrones)**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end!**

* * *

 **Description: Sherlock listens to Molly rant about two fandoms.**

* * *

There were times when being the husband of Molly Hooper had its advantages.

Such as having special privileges in her lab, seeing her light up whenever he walked in, the lunches, and more importantly, the nights in her bed.

But there were also times when those times were strained by what Sherlock called her fangirl moments.

It was no secret how big of a fan of the superheroes, both DC and Marvel, his lovely wife was, nor how much of a fan she was in the fantasy verse. There were times he understood for he did find them interesting, yet there were times, like today, when he just wanted to punch the creators of said universes.

"How am I going to survive this weekend?!" Molly ranted around their medium size flat.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's just a movie and a show." He mumbled but realized only too late how wrong he was.

She stopped and whirled around with her eyes flashing. "No, Sherlock, it is not just a movie nor is it just a show." She began, stepping towards him.

"Avengers: Endgame is the final movie for at least one of the heroes, and though I have my suspicions, I can't bring myself to contemplate what it would be like without one of them." She began, holding her finger up to his face. "They have become family."

"They are fiction, Molly."

"They are more than that, Sherlock." She argued back. "After the crap storm we had to deal with Moriarty, the threat on my life and on yours, I found myself relating to them, especially Tony." She remarked, sliding on the couch. "How can I say goodbye to even one of them?"

He sighed and moved in fluid strides towards her, sitting down beside her.

"They have become a part of me, even the douchebags." She remarked with a tearful laugh.

He winced and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close as he often did when she needed to comfort.

"The episode of _Game of Thrones_ is supposed to be a battle. You know someone is going to die. They are the same. How could I survive this weekend?"

He sighed and bent his head to kiss the top of hers. "By believing that the ones who die have good deaths and there is a reason they had to die."

She shook her head, her hand tensing on his chest. "When you disappeared for those few years, I felt like Peggy waiting for Steve or Pepper waiting for Tony. I couldn't stand the thought of you dying. I couldn't bear to lose you, even if at the time, we weren't together."

He smiled and pulled back, gazing in her eyes. "I came back, Molly. I came back to you. So did the Captain and the Iron Man."

"But what if…?"

He leaned forward and kissed her lips, tenderly. "Death is only the beginning, and just because someone dies, doesn't mean they are gone. We carry their memories and for fictional characters, we have the movies to replay."

She smiled and leaned into his side. "You're right, but if they kill the characters the way they did Loki, giving him a pointless death, I swear, I will hunt the Russo brothers down and knee them in the crotch."

He chuckled, knowing she would.

"If one of them is Doctor Strange, I will be seriously ticked."

"Which one is that?" He asked, absently.

She smiled and lifted her head to catch his eyes. "The one who looks like the man I love, but with an American accent."

He smiled and nodded. "Maybe, he won't."

"He better not, because he looks like you and seeing you die on the screen will kill me."

He leaned forward, placing his forehead on hers. "Would it make you feel better if I sit next to you and hold you close while we watch it?"

She pulled back and her eyes widened. "I thought you had a case."

"Simple stuff, besides, you are much more important."

"Oh, Sherlock," She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Be warned though, my love. The movie is 3 hours long."

He rolled his eyes over his shoulder and felt a hand slap the back of his head. "Ow…"

"That's for rolling your eyes."

He shook his head and held his darling wife close.

If there was one thing he knew for sure, she would survive this weekend for she was the strongest woman he had ever known.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **If you've noticed, I've changed the title to this, as I wanted this to be a section for semi-drabbles or drabbles. My longer stories are located in the other Sherlolly collection: You're the Only One who Mattered.**

 **I'll try to update a little better, but my personal life is so hectic. If you have requests, send them in! I'll do my best to get them up!**

 **Until Next Time...**


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